


Devil's Advocate

by OtherCat



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angst, Dark, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-05
Updated: 2009-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtherCat/pseuds/OtherCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Congratulations, Lindsey, you've finally turned Angel. Wait till you find out what Angelus and Darla are getting for a doorprize...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Devil May Care

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 2004 to my LJ and 07/04/04 to my webpage

Lindsey tries not to think to hard about what he's become.

Lies between two cool bodies that curl around him in wanton curves. Sleeps safe as a fish in the tentacles of an anemone, wakes to the sound of vampires fucking each other--wakes to one of them fucking him.

Wonders why he's still alive. Darla's only answer to the question is a coy smile--Angel usually decides that a full mouth is too busy to ask questions. They share him, argue over him, spread him wide and open. Own him so completely that they don't even need the white parchment contract signed in blood that Angel keeps with their luggage.

He tells himself that it's enough that he _is_ alive. That Angel and Darla seem content to keep him that way. Somewhere between toy and companion, and some third thing that doesn't have much to do with his hard-won education and training as a lawyer.

They travel, by ship, by train. They visit New Orleans, New York, Chicago. Fancy restaurants and clubs. Darla waltzes with Angel, and teaches Lindsey swing. Lindsey makes Anne Rice vampire jokes in New Orleans. Angel gets sick of them pretty fast, and pays him back. Angel takes Lindsey to a local S/M club, and he spends the entire night on his knees, when he isn't strapped to a St. Andrew's Cross. Lindsey doesn't stop cracking wise the entire time, voice so soft it's almost subvocal, so only Angel can hear him clearly.

Darla loves the blues, it turns out, and plunges into the local scene wherever they are. Darla tells him stories about blues greats she's seen in person, and Lindsey soaks it all in. Angel scoffs and rolls his eyes, but can't help his own urge to name drop, claiming to have been a friend of Muddy Waters, and Howlin' Wolf.

Angel watches him constantly, his gaze an invisible leash. Lindsey plays with that limit, sees how far he can push. Lindsey knows how far he can go before Angel reels him back in, mouth like honey, hands like iron, like silk.

Darla doesn't watch Lindsey, she simply expects him to be there. It's Angel that she watches, always. It makes Lindsey a little crazy, sometimes, something he tries (and usually fails) not to show.

He's more Angel's than Darla's--that's something he's known from the beginning. Angel has hauled him into restroom stalls and alleys. Yanked Lindsey's pants down and fucked him against the wall or the hood of a car with little or no preparation. Fucked his mouth, knees aching from tile or concrete, and more rarely, Angel's sucked _him_ off so sweetly that Lindsey's sure his brains had been sucked out through his dick.

When he's Darla's, she isn't any more gentle; glorious, insatiable, demanding bitch. He's gone down on her for hours, Lindsey hard and aching and knowing he might not come at all, and not caring--every moan and cry Darla makes as tangible to him as a carress. She's ridden him, sucked him off, and once, to his complete horror (because the damn thing was a foot long and a lurid _pink_) even fucked him with a strap on.

Every night is potentially his last; he knows this. Running is the furthest thing from his mind. Even if it there wasn't the contract, he knows that he'd stay.


	2. Devil in the Details

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2004 to my LJ and 09/25/04 to my web page

Lindsey had a brand new hand, and a song in his heart.

Unfortunately, the song was The Who, "Won't Be Fooled Again." Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.

Lilah had come into his office, accompanied by some goons from security to tell him that his contract had been given to Darla and Angelus--sort of a good will, no harm done going away present. Good luck in your new career, clean out your desk, and don't let the door hit you on the way out. Lilah had been surprisingly nice about it--almost sympathetic in a way Lindsey pretended to believe wasn't false.

For once in his life, he didn't know what to do, didn't know what to think or say--there was no room for more than a a sort of numb, frozen panic. They escorted him down to the lobby, his wrists and ankles cuffed. Angelus and Darla were waiting for him in the lobby, dressed for a night out on the town.

From about a thousand miles away, Lindsey heard Reed talking to Darla and Angelus. Darla was doing most of the talking back though, while Angelus smiled coldly, a look that promised things Lindsey didn't want to think about.

Thought about them anyway.

When Angelus and Darla had finished their business with Mr. Reed, they stepped up to Lindsey, and took an arm each. Lindsey fought then, in a determined, doomed attempt to escape, or die trying. He knew Angelus' reputation, and Darla's, which was no less terrible, in her own way. Angelus held him like an unruly child and cuffed him upside the head, then shook him till his teeth rattled. They half dragged, half carried him to the elevator, and the parking garage. Angelus murmured silky voiced promises--threats--into Lindsey's ear as they bundled him into the big stretch limo.

Lindsey desperately wanted to read the contract that Angelus had neatly folded and tucked into his suit coat. Wanted to know exactly what he was in for, but the questions were frozen in his throat.

The limo ride seemed to take forever, and Lindsey nodded drowsily, flinching every time he came in contact with Angelus. He felt dizzy, drowsy, and wondered if he'd been slipped a drug at some point. He thought he was probably right as he slipped into the deep, comforting dark.

He awakened in a darkened hotel suite, lying with his head in someone's--in Angelus'--lap. Angelus combed his fingers through Lindsey's hair. The gesture was so deceptively gentle, that Lindsey found himself turning his face toward the touch. The half-anticipated tightening of the vampire's grip never came, though. "Now, what am I to do with you, Mc Donald?" Angelus asked lightly.

"I suppose killing me quickly would be too much to ask," Lindsey said, tone falling short of "flippant" by a few feet, at least.

"You'd be right," Angelus said. An abrupt shove sent Lindsey tumbling to the floor. Lindsey, naked, wrists cuffed behind his back now, grunted as he banged shoulder and hip against the floor.

Lindsey attempted to scramble onto his knees at least. Glared up at Angelus, who stood, and shoved Lindsey back down with a foot. "No, don't get up just yet," Angelus said. "Let's give the drugs a little more time to wear off." Angelus stepped back, and sat back down. Lindsey shuddered, and held himself silent.

There was a rustle of parchment as Angelus removed the contract from his coat pocket. "This is a very interesting document," Angelus said. "You're supposed to be a bright boy. Salutarian, good GPA, high scores on your SATs--but a contract that reads more like a lease than a contract of employment didn't even make you a little bit suspicious."

Lindsey glared up at Angel, but still said nothing.

"Of course, you might not have realized what you were getting into--ignorant, but not of course, innocent," Angelus said thoughtfully.

"Were you planning on talking me to death?" Trying to provoke something, what, Lindsey didn't know. Just wanted to get whatever it was Angelus had planned for him over with.

"I'm sorry," Angelus said insincerely. "Am I boring you?"

"Pretty much yeah."

"Let's see what we can do to change that," Angelus said, and tucked away the contract. He pulled Lindsey in, slapped him so hard that Lindsey heard his ears ring, when Lindsey tried to spit in Angelus' face. Lindsey found himself hauled over Angelus' knees like a goddamn kid about to get his ass beat. Lindsey screamed and struggled, but Angelus' arm over his waist was like an iron bar. "You have no idea of how long I wanted to do this," Angelus said cheerfully, and started beating him, barehanded. Taps at first, interspersed with an almost pleasant massage, followed by harder and harder blows that set his ass and the backs of his thighs on fire.

If things couldn't get worse, or more humiliating, the bedroom door of the suite opened, and Darla stood in the door way, leaning against the door jamb, looking like sin in a sheer, silky nightgown.

Watching Angelus spank him, watched Lindsey shout and squirm, enjoying every minute of it, too. Lindsey tried to keep silent, furious and humiliated, when she walked into the room to get a closer look., which only seemed to inspire Angelus to hit harder. Then she touched him. Soft, deadly hands combing through his hair, stroking his back, it was just too damn much. Lindsey sobbed, ragged in-drawn breath edged with tears. As if that were a signal, Angelus stopped spanking him. "We were going to play with him together, Angel," Darla said. Amused and exasperated. A debutante put out by gauche behavior from her beau.

"I was warming him up for you," Angelus said, grip tightening reflexively when Lindsey squirmed. He sounded absurdly innocent.

Darla's hand slipped between Angelus' spread knees, to cup Lindsey's cock and balls. "So I see," Darla sounded even more amused. Lindsey gasped at the touch, Darla's hand seemed almost cool compared to his heated flesh. Heated, erect flesh, that she stroked, making him moan. "Very nice." This, Lindsey decided, was worse than any torture he could have imagined. Being talked about, not being talked _too_. "Since you had a headstart, I'm sure you won't mind me using him first?" Darla's voice sounded stern now, steel beneath velvet.

"Of course, Darla." In another time, and in a _much_ safer place, Lindsey might have gloated at the chagrin in Angelus' voice.

Darla stepped away, her smile a cruel smirk. "You can watch of course," she said, like a lady granting a favor to her knight. She turned, and retreated to the bedroom. Angelus sighed, and muttered something in what Lindsey thought was probably Irish. Something unflattering, because of the guilty feeling wince from Angelus when Darla's said, "I heard that," in a cold, flat voice.

Angelus sighed again, and stood up, and set Lindsey on his feet. Lindsey felt his knees buckle, but Angelus held him steady. Supported him. Guided him into the bedroom. Lindsey told himself that he was allowing Angelus to practically carry him into the room, that any minute he'd break free, it was the only thing that kept him from breaking right then. Angel uncuffed Lindsey, and pushed him onto the bed. Lindsey flopped onto the bed, tried to struggle upright, escape, but then Darla had him. She caught him before he could even get his feet under him. Pushed him back onto the bed, and caught his hands above his head. "Silly boy," she said. "Isn't this what you wanted?" She sounded almost kind.

"Not like this," Lindsey said, and struggled. He wasn't any more effective than he had been with Angelus. It was arrousing, and terrifying, being so easily controlled. So easily taken. He wouldn't beg, he couldn't. Begging wouldn't do him any good. He wanted to. God, how he wanted to.

"Did you want kisses and roses, Lindsey? Did you want to ask me out?" Darla laughed softly as she straddled him, her short nightgown hitching up over her thighs. She wasn't wearing any underwear at all, her soft dampness rubbing against his cock.

Lindsey bucked, moaning, which made her laugh, and grip him with her knees. She lifted herself up, held his wrists gathered in one hand while she used the other to guide herself down onto his cock. Lindsey groaned, and bucked again. She fit around him like a glove, and it nearly killed him, when she started to rise up and down his shaft. "No," he half groaned, half gasped. "No." It was all he could say as she rode him, as his hips moved automatically to meet her.

Over her shoulder, he could see Angelus, watching them both. Intense stare, and a faint, terrifying smile. "Should've bought a new sketch pad and pencils."

Darla laughed. "Pretty, isn't he?" She stopped moving entirely, making Lindsey groan with frustration.

"You both are," Angelus said, and approached the bed. The mattress dipped as he knelt upon it, kissing Darla on the mouth, reaching out to touch her breasts, belly, thighs before moving back slightly. Angel started to strip, tossing aside his coat, and working on the buttons of his shirt.

"Slower," Darla said to Angelus, rocking slightly, making Lindsey groan. Angelus gave her a brief, dark look, but obeyed. Slow strip tease, hips grinding to a unknown beat. Hard muscles under smooth skin, an erect, dark pink cock that Lindsey couldn't look away from. Lindsey shuddered, then moaned as Darla started picking up the pace again, fucking herself on him until he came in a screaming rush. "Oh, you *are* a naughty boy," Darla said, somehow sounding breathless. Lindsey glared, even as he felt a little spike of terror at the thought of what Darla might do in retaliation.

Darla unseated herself, and moved forward, while Angelus caught him by the ankles, and pulled him further down the bed. Darla settled on Lindsey's shoulders, kneeling upright, gripping the headboard. "I think you get the idea of what I want," she said.

"Yes," Lindsey heard himself say, and hated himself for the rush of excitement, the arrousal he felt, that rode under the fear. The need he heard in his voice.

"Good." Darla lowered herself, covered his face. Didn't even make a token threat of what would happen, should Lindsey decide to bite.

Not that he would. Perversely, insanely, he wanted to hear Darla moan. Wanted _Angelus_ to hear her moan. Lindsey tilted his head, lapped eagerly at folds of flesh, taking delight in every gasp and sound of pleasure Darla made. She ground down on him, rubbing, thighs tightening around his head until he thought he'd faint or suffocate. Didn't care. Moaned the first time he heard her cry out.

Angelus meanwhile, was spreading his legs apart, lifting them. Lindsey could feel the bed shift as Angelus knelt between his legs. Whimpered, despite his best efforts not to, when Angel massaged his buttocks. Darla distracted him from what Angelus was doing by suddenly grinding down then, as she arched, and cried out again. Nearly crushed him as she came. She leaned against the headboard, gasping, taking some of her weight off him while Angelus breached him, fingers slippery with lubricant. Lindsey felt almost hysterical relief that Angelus wasn't going to take him dry, whimpered again when Angelus' finger brushed his prostate.

"Shh, just keep doing what you're doing, Lindsey," Darla said. "You're doing fine." Such a bizarrely comforting voice. It was confusing, and somehow even more frightening than any harsher demand she might have made. Lindsey pressed into Darla's damp curls, pleasured her with mouth and tongue. Explored ways of making her gasp, making her moan, while Angelus slowly filled him, fingerfucked him, every thrust angled toward his prostate making him gasp and whimper. Thrusting, despite himself, hips moving automatically.

"So damn tight," Angelus murmured. Lindsey shuddered and bucked. Shuddered again at Angelus' low chuckle. "Like this, do you? What we're doing, what we're going to do."

_Yes._ Lindsey wanted to say. _Yes._ Grateful that Darla was keeping his mouth too busy for anything more coherent than moans and whimpers.

Angelus' chuckled again, as if he'd somehow heard Lindsey's thoughts. He withdrew his fingers, and pushed Lindsey's legs further up and back, then slowly entered him. Bent double, face buried in Darla's sex, and Angelus starting to thrust, Lindsey felt himself beginning to get light headed from lack of air. Wondered in a foggy way if this was how he was going to die, suffocated by vampires who didn't remember, or care, that humans needed to breath.

He didn't lose his hard on at the thought.

Darla came again, grinding down so hard, squeezing his head so tightly that a bright yellow haze edged with black slid across his eyes. Every thing was too loud, and out of focus, but then he was coming too, and it didn't matter, didn't matter at all as his release slid through him, overwhelmed him. Lindsey might have blacked out for a while, because there was a skip in time. How much of a skip, he wasn't sure. He was curled up on his side at the foot of the bed, naked, shivering. Blind folded, and his hands were cuffed behind his back--there was absolutely no feeling in them-- so maybe a few hours then. Anything that wasn't numb, ached all over.

"He's awake again," Angelus said, sounding pleased.

Lindsey shuddered, but didn't fight as he was lifted up, and placed back on the bed. Being blindfolded made it so much better, and so much worse. He was lost in a sea of touch and taste, over stimulated and overwhelmed as the two vampires stroked, teased, and pinched. It was confusing, and arrousing, and terrifying as they made low voiced suggestions and requests to each other.

Angelus kissed him on the mouth, which was suprising as hell, but no as surprising as the moan that shivered up from someplace deep in his gut. Angelus' hands on him, every where, exploring and stroking. Darla's smaller, smoother hands between his legs, over his hips and thighs. He was urged into a kneeling position he could barely maintain, as offbalance as he was. He stifled a whimper as one of them (he thought Angelus) slipped lube-slick fingers inside. "Sh, you're doing beautifully, Lindsey," Darla said, from behind him. It was Darla, Darla who was filling him with her fingers, stretching him. For Angelus.

"Oh god," Lindsey moaned, head falling forward to rest against the bed. "God, _please_." No choice, no escape, and all he wanted, and all he could think about, was the feel of Darla's fingers, the sound of her voice praising him. It was completely and totally insane.

Lindsey felt them exchange positions. Darla now holding his head in her lap, stroking his hair, while Angelus moved behind him. Grasped his hips, and slid inside. It hurt, burned. Lindsey bit his tongue to keep from crying out at the pain. Angelus kept still for a little while, then began to rock, grip tightening on Lindsey's hips as he slowly, agonizingly, began to thrust. Sparks flashed when Angelus hit the sweet spot, and Lindsey moaned again as the angle changed, Angelus hitting that one spot over and over again.

Angelus came with a almost angry sounding snarl, and rested for a few moments before pulling free. The bed shifted as Angelus moved around, and then returned. Lindsey felt/heard the faint click as the handcuffs were unlocked, and tossed to the floor. Darla and Angelus stretched him out on the bed between them, bound his hands crossed in front of him, his ankles, his knees. Darla kissed him, while Angelus idly stroked him off. "Why," he said, or tried to say.

Why was he still alive, why were they doing this.

They didn't answer--Lindsey had the feeling he wasn't going to get one, any time soon.


	3. Devil You Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2004 to my LJ and 09/25/04 to my web page

Angel was trying hard not to think of anything at all.

He sat in a chair and sketched Lindsey's loose, boneless sprawl. Long day, busy night. Lindsey was sleeping his excesses off on the couch. Darla, pleading illness, had banned them from her room. Angel was sleepless.

He closed his eyes, and saw Wesley. Cordy. Gunn. Saw how he failed them, failed himself and his mission. Failed Doyle, and even Kate. He's followed by ghosts, surrounded by ghosts. Their voices, their faces. Their anger and accusations. Even Darla is a kind of ghost. Even Lindsey. Shadows all around and he can't find what's real.

The pencil snapped. Angel swore softly as Lindsey immediately tensed. Awakened, though he attempted to feign sleep. The smooth curves and lines were ruined, the relaxation and ease of his sleeping sprawl destroyed. "I know you're awake Lindsey." Softly.

Lindsey opened his eyes and looked in Angel's direction. Wary and mistrustful. Saw _Angelus_, not Angel. What Angel wanted him to see, for the time being. Angel smirked and held the sketch out to Lindsey, who took it. "Nice work," Lindsey said, and handed it back.

"Work in progress," Angel replied, leaving it up for debate whether he meant the sketch or Lindsey himself. Lindsey stared at him warily, rose, and edged toward the bathroom. "Come back here, where you're done," Angel said. It's cat and mouse time again. Flare of anger, flare of tension, and Lindsey left the room.

It's been a month. Playing house with Darla--giving her everything her heart desired, within limits. It's hard, keeping her distracted and entertained enough that she doesn't mind the restrictions. She isn't even really aware of them, except to complain sulkily over bagged human blood. Playing with Lindsey--smoke and mirror games, keeping Lindsey distracted from wondering, from thinking.

Lindsey re-entered the common room. Watching Angel warily. Angel doesn't look up. "Where would you go, if I let you?" Angel asked casually. _Felt_ Lindsey twitch. Enjoyed the fear, and hated it too.

"Away." Lindsey's voice was rough, tight.

"Where?"

"Anywhere you're not," Lindsey. "Not like it matters anyway."

"No, it doesn't," Angel agreed. He stood up, and crossed over to where Lindsey stood. Lindsey swallowed, looked away, and held very still. "Nothing matters at all, does it?" Lindsey shuddered under his hands. He didn't lean in, or pull away. "Do you remember what happened that night, when you tried to run me over with your truck?"

Lindsey's eyes narrowed. "You mean when I _ran_ you over with my truck. Yeah, I remember."

"They died, I failed them," Angel, said, and it seemed to him that his own voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well. "Couldn't get to them in time. Because of you." His grip tightened on Lindsey, who tensed. His heart rate spiking sharply. Angel was arroused, and disgusted by it. His arrousal, Lindsey's fear. Angel pushed Lindsey away. "Get me a whiskey, Lindsey." Smiled at Lindsey, and played on his apparent (actual) insanity.

Lindsey obeyed, turning stiffly away, and going over to the nearby wet bar, pulled out a bottle of whiskey, and a glass. Angel sat down on the couch. "Pour one for yourself, and bring over a couple bottles." Lindsey returns with both glasses, hands one to him, and sets the other down on the coffee table, before returning with the two bottles. Angel lets Lindsey sit as far away as he can manage.

Angel sipped his whiskey, and watched Lindsey. Lindsey doesn't even know that his rage and hatred is a touchstone for Angel. Doesn't know how much Angel wanted him, needed him. "Ever read 'Rime of the Ancient Mariner'?" Angel asked. "You're my albatross."

Lindsey frowned. Brows pinched tight in a face creased by tension and more than a little confusion. "How am I your albatross?"

Angel smirked. "It'll make more sense if you're drunk."

Wary, uncertain look from Lindsey, but he obeyed the unspoken request. Angel managed not to murmur 'good boy,' but it was certainly implied, when he smiled. Angel waited until Lindsey had drunk two glasses before speaking. "I was too late to save them, I failed them. But I was too late because of you."

"And that makes me your albatross."

"You're still not understanding me," Angel said. "You're not drunk enough yet." Lindsey stared at him, hand gripping the glass tightly. White knuckled. Angel waited until two more glasses had been drunk. "What would you have done, if I'd tried to help you sooner? If I'd taken you in, after you'd helped me save the children?"

Lindsey twitched. Shook his head, confused and drunken. "How should I know?How do I know? What would you have offered? When?" He waved a hand in negation, rejecting the speculation. "It doesn't matter now anyway."

"What if it did? Would you have screwed me over if I'd taken you in?"

Lindsey hunched in on himself. "I don't know. Probably."

"Because with the contract, you wouldn't have been free to choose anyway, or because you're a lying, backstabbing lawyer?" Angel asked lightly.

Lindsey glared. "My being a lawyer has _nothing_ to do with it."

"So I didn't misjudge you at all?" Softly.

"You'll never know. Maybe that was my one chance to go straight." Lindsey shrugged the question off.

"And if it had been your one chance to be good, then what happened next was even more my fault than yours, wasn't it?"

"Fine, if you want it to all be your fault, it can all be your fault," Lindsey sneered at him with the ghost of his old bravado. The ghost wavered, cracked into pieces. "What do you _want_ from me?" Lindsey asked, voice shaking.

"Everything."

Lindsey pitched the glass--empty now--narrowly missing Angel's head. It shattered against the wall. "You _have_ it already! You fucking _own_ me!"

Angel moved off the couch, toward Lindsey, who flinched, but held his ground. "No, I only what I can take. That's not everything." Angel watched confusion and fear flicker across Lindsey's face--rat in a maze, rat being played with by a cat. Angel reached out, and pulled Lindsey in. Gentle, gentle, knowing Lindsey hated this more than if Angel beat him. Hated what Angel could do to him, with mouth and stroking hands. Angel nuzzled Lindsey's neck, brushing lips over Darla's favorite spot for biting. Lindsey's body jerked against his, *into* his, a soft, desperate groan escaping. Lindsey loved it when Darla bit him, loved it as much as Angel hated that Darla had started doing it.

"What else is there?" Lindsey asked, voice shaking.

"Everything in between. Your heart, your brains, your loyalty, if you're capable of it," Angel said. He released Lindsey, and stepped back.

Lindsey swayed drunkenly at the loss of support, only just barely stopping himself from reaching out for Angel, flushing angrily. "You'll have to settle for what's in the contract, my body and soul."

Angel didn't answer. He sat back down, and thought about what to do, what to say, and how to say it. How _much_ to tell Lindsey. Between them, he and Darla had nearly broken Lindsey--played a more subdued version of the games Darla enjoyed, and Angelus would have loved. It was small comfort knowing he'd held back, had held Darla back --when he could see how close Lindsey was to shattering. Part of him wanted Lindsey to shatter, to finally break. Wanted to take the broken pieces and fashion someone else entirely. "Come here," that part of Angel said, and pointed to the ground between his feet. "Kneel, right there."

Lindsey glared at him, but obeyed, folded to his knees, head slightly bowed. Angel picked his glass of whiskey back up, and sipped thoughtfully. Lindsey fought him tenaciously, even now, but if Darla had asked the same of him, Lindsey would be on his knees before she'd spoken the first word. "Is it easier to fight me, than it was to give in to Wolfram and Hart?"

Lindsey stared up at him. "I don't understand you," he whispered.

"Yes you do. They had all of the carrots, and all I had was a stick--shouldn't be surprised that you liked the carrots better." Angel smiled at Lindsey. "I couldn't save them, and I couldn't save Darla, and the only ones I have left, are the ones I didn't want--but I did want them, and didn't realize it, until I lost everyone else." For a moment, Angel thought Lindsey wouldn't get it. Wouldn't understand what Angel was saying, but then he did. Which Angel supposed was a good thing, because he was starting to sound like Drusilla.

"You...want me," Lindsey said slowly. "You want _me_?"

Angel smirked, and tilted the whiskey glass in a brief salute. "I knew you were a bright boy." He sipped the whiskey.

Lindsey rocked back, and sat on his heels. "Why?"

"Is it easier to fight me, than it was to give in to Wolfram and Hart?"

Lindsey looked like he wanted to hit something, preferably the insane vampire who kept asking him questions he didn't want to answer. "You're something I _can_ fight."

Angel smirked. "I know that. Now. I still don't have any carrots though." Lindsey muttered something about goddamn psychotic vampires and their goddamned carrots that Angel chose to ignore. "What kind of carrots would I need for you, Lindsey?"

Lindsey looked like he wanted to scream. He stayed on his knees, and he dropped his gaze, but his hands were clenched tight in fists.

"See, I'm better at sticks," Angel said lightly. "If you were sorry, or actually cared, it'd be even easier. I didn't help you before, and I can't help you now, when I want to."

"Help me? _Help_ me?" Lindsey started laughing, a rusty sound that sounded more like a sob than anything else. "You fucking _destroyed_ me."

"You destroyed me. You won. You're the door prize." Angel smirked at Lindsey, who flushed again.

"This is _winning_?" Lindsey shook his head.

"What was the objective, Lindsey?" Angel asked patiently.

"To get rid of you--but you're still here." Lindsey looked up at him, confused.

"To neutralize me, or turn me to their side, not kill me," Angel prompted.

"Oh, _their_ objectives," Lindsey said dully. "I guess they knew what they were doing then, setting me up against you."

"You were the best man for the job." Angel smirked.

"What do you _want_ from me?" Lindsey asked helplessly.

"I told you. Everything." Angel reached out, and laid the palm of his hand against Lindsey's cheek. He stroked the slight stubble along the edge of Lindsey's jaw. Lindsey shivered under his touch, eyes closed. So damned irresistable like this. Strong, so damned strong, and stubborn, but weakening, stone being carved away by Angel's chisel and hammer. Work in progress. Irresistable, the way Lindsey needed, hated his touch. Angel caught him by the back of the head, hand gripping Lindsey's hair, and pulled him closer. "They were watching, for about a week, you know that, right?" He asked. His free hand slid down between Lindsey's legs.

Lindsey shuddered, and moaned. "It's been longer than a week, though." He shuddered again when Angel slid his free hand between Lindsey's legs, and stroked. His hips bucked into Angel's hand, his cock starting to stiffen.

"It wasn't all for show. Just the part they wanted to see." Angel kissed Lindsey hard on the mouth, then drifted down to nuzzle at his neck, still rubbing Lindsey's hardening cock through the fabric of his worn jeans. Lindsey moaned again, pushing into Angel's hand. Angel's own erection was making sitting in tight pants more than a little uncomfortable. "I want you, any way I can get you."

"You _own_ me, isn't that enough?"

"No, it's not." Angel released Lindsey, and sat back. "You'll settle for whatever Darla chooses to give you. I won't just settle for whatever I can take."

Lindsey flushed, hunched in on himself, hands knotted up in fists. "What do you _want_ from me?"

Angel's smile was sharply edged. "Make the first move, Lindsey. Throw a punch or kiss me, but _do_ something."

Lindsey shook his head. Wrapped his arms around his waist and rocked. Anger, lust, and anxiety seemed hang from him like a miasma. Angel wondered if he'd pushed to hard, if he'd finally broken Lindsey. Angelus would have known--Angelus would already be shaping Lindsey into whatever took his fancy. *Angel* wanted to pull Lindsey back from that edge, even though he'd pushed Lindsey there to begin with. "Do it, Lindsey," Angel said harshly.

Lindsey winced, and closed his eyes for a moment. Took a deep, shaky breath, and slowly leaned forward, to rest his head against Angel's knee.

Angel wondered if he should be pleased or disturbed by the apparent submission. He reached down, and gently began to stroke Lindsey's hair. He could feel the tension leave Lindsey's body, felt him relax--something Lindsey never did, if he was aware of Angel's presence. That, more than anything else, gave Angel hope.

He stood up, and pulled out the hide-a-bed, and tugged Lindsey off of the floor, and laid him on the couch. Angel started loosening Lindsey's clothes clothes. Lindsey stared up at him, dazed, drunk. Angel knelt on the bed, and kissed Lindsey on the mouth, stroked his cheek. He opened Lindsey's shirt, and rubbed hard over a nipple, making Lindsey arch and hiss, eyes squeezed shut. Lindsey _yielded_ to his touch, breath quickening, heart hammering. "You can say no, Lindsey," Angel whispered against Lindsey's flushed and sweaty skin.

"Say no, and I'll stop." Lindsey shook his head. Not believing or refusing the offer, or actually _saying_ no, Angel couldn't tell which. He kissed Lindsey again, and moved away, undressing, and lying down on the opposite side of the bed.

He awoke in the morning, with Lindsey curled against his back.


End file.
